( Failing at) Keeping Pace with the Hardest Partying Band In Philadelphia!
69 Freelance Sweatpants fans crowded the tiny shotgun shack of a bar known as THE POCKET on a fun filled Saturday night. Everyone and their brother were in attendance for the bands 37th show. Custom made I LOVE FREELANCE SWEATPANTS shirts were adorned alongside the bands signature MERCHANDISE. Everyone was there having a good time, everyone except me.
As a writer I try and look for UNIQUE WAYS to cover this band. Back in June I read an article about a man who drank himself mad watching the NIC CAGE show SPIDER NOIR. As a writer, I’ve always made it sound like I never (on the record) succumbed to the indulgences of the fans that come to see the band.
The indulgences that the band themselves writes lyrics about. I’m talking about alcohol. ARMED with the COSMIC BEING known as UNCLE GARY’S open bar tab and PABST BLUE RIBBON. I decided to see what the band sees, why they think DRINKING ALL DAY is worth lyrics that span at least 14 songs. Pick up that fine scotch your drinking and keep pace, we’re about to ( for research purposes) drink to a FREELANCE CONCERT.
I first call up my boss ANGELA from the FREELANCE REPORTER. “MEAH” she says like a 60’s housewife from a black and white film serial. That means time to indulge. The band hot off a campaign to FREE LANCE SWEATPANTS( The Reporter’s Founder) for a crime of Tax Evasion, kicked things off like my boss kicking his TURBOTAX account to the curb with enough force to rattle the I.R.S. “HOLD ON. I guess I didn’t hold on as THAT BEER DEPLETED FASTER THAN THIS ARTICLE’S CREDIBILITY.
“SPOOKY” is next. At this point I can’t tell if the chant for wings is from the RECORDED version, or the notification from UBER EATS to get “WINGS TO GO”. Without proper filed taxes, I’m just name dropping sponsors until one of them saves this paper you see. I then quickly called ANGELA.
“Telegram me that setlist doll.” By this point in the show, the Reporter’s word count and ability to send information electronically got its technology knocked back to the 60’s thanks to our FEARLESS JAILED LEADER. Which is fitting as by beer 3 “GOTTA GET OUT” only encouraged me to be mad, I was already cut off of 21st century technology, no way was I losing pace to the best band in DC and Philly.
The band then harkened things back to the 90’s with a song from their HERO DAMON ALBURN. The band and fans began a tremendous chant of “WOO HOO”. I think this is beer 6 now. I remember GARY appearing in my peripheral.
I never saw Gary again after that night, maybe he was never there. Maybe the real Gary was the, oh wait, no he’s filling the outside of the bar with air that was breathable on planes in the 60’s. I’m starting to smell a story here, what if the man on the wing of that plane was put out there by his own crew because of his DRAGON BREATH? Oh my stars, is this thoughts now? Time to ( for research purposes) drown them out.
“HIT THE ROAD” gives DOM and AJ time to show their prowess as LOCAL GUITAR HEROES WHO MADE IT ALL THE WAY TO THE TOP. Why do they say top it off when finishing a PBR it goes right to the bottom when you pound it. Pound it, like JUSTIN did to his epic solo in “COUCH”. A place where I can sit, no, sitting is for the weak. I called ANGELA again. Drunk this time adding in a tad bit of 60’s era sexism to our conversation.
“ANGELA you marvelous minx, dial me up a cup of joe, I know I can make it to the end and crack this caper of how to keep pace with the Pants.” During the new be bop sensation the kids at the jazz clubs like the Picanos and Smellibum would dance to, the band launched into a 19 count intro that would make LOUIS ARMSTRONG blush. The song on its 18th count hit me like,
Well I realized there is no ANGELA, there is no FREELANCE REPORTER, that’s just a name for myself. I just write an online periodical every few months. Oh no! This gets sad now with beer number—— “TAKE THE TIME AND LEAVE THE SPACE” lives up to its name. Like the soon to be released view from AJ’s glasses. I felt like I was one with the crowd. I get it now. These songs aren’t hard pressed puff pieces looking to make me a quick dime, songs like “ NEW MATERIAL” “DOCTOR” “UPSIDE DOWN” are meant to give the audience an escape. Escape it did. No Pina Colada for me, I got myself a lime and a Corona.
For those who don’t know this, Coronas and limes are to reporters what spinach is to Popeye. Our secret strength. An ability to come back to life for one last dance. It worked too well unfortunately. The sour potency mixed with a rine made for a bad combination with the Corona once the fruit fell into the drink.
For “HIGH ON A PLANE” everything blended, reality, fiction, a midnight order of a platter of chicken cutlets my wife Dottie conjured. I woke up somehow in bed slacks and like that car parked on the front lawn in the song “MY OWN WORST ENEMY”, I wondered how I came in through that window last night.
I decided to then put down the beer and pick up a pen. If anyone’s going to write about how to keep pace with FREELANCE SWEATPANTS it’s me. If I learned a lesson here is that beer is only an indulgence and should not be used to write pieces of music journalism. That should come from having a clear mind and knowledge of 60’s tropes and stereotypes. I also know you don’t where the band is playing next!
I ALSO KNOW YOU DON’T WHERE A I NEARBY TRASHCAN IS HOLY—-